Father Emmanuel
It was Monday morning now, and the men in the watch towers hadn’t seen the cop and her dog at all since they’d left with the detective last Thursday. Zeke said the women seemed to accept his explanation, that the baby’s mother had fled to parts unknown and he had no way of tracking her down. The ordeal seemed to finally be over for good.
Still, just in case someone was somehow watching them surreptitiously, he’d had the men string tarps between the trees, essentially creating a canopy over the compound, making it impossible to see inside. If only he’d thought of that sooner. Maybe he could have prevented the detective and her beat cop minions from invading the compound at all. He hadn’t appreciated them asserting their authority in his kingdom, making him look weak in front of his people.
He wouldn’t let it happen again.
Of course he’d told the flock that the tarps had been put up for next week’s fish fry. A lot of planning had gone into the event, and they needed to be ready in case the weather didn’t cooperate. They’d bought the explanation, just as they bought everything he told them. These people had no interest in thinking for themselves. It was easier for them to simply be told what to do and believe.
In addition to having the tarps installed, he’d also kept both Juliette and Luke on house arrest in their respective bunkhouses. Luke could sand the furniture there, and Juliette could still work on her blankets. Emmanuel would be damned if those two would cost him another dime.